


Mr. & Mrs. Bradley

by keircatenation



Series: Arcanum Majora [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, F/M, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-17 21:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19963483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keircatenation/pseuds/keircatenation
Summary: Isolde Eileen Allaway is the woman Wrath falls in love with for a reason.//part of the Arcanum Majora universe.





	Mr. & Mrs. Bradley

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this.... _ages_ ago as concept writing, but never posted it. I'm going back over old documents and remembering just how much I love this fic universe, so now I'm starting to work on it again.

Isolde Eileen Allaway was born in 1870 in West City, to an old and established aristocratic military family. Her father was a general, and his father, and his grandfather; her mother was from another military family with just as long a pedigree. She was second-born, and the second daughter; the birth was difficult, and it was only five years later that the long-awaited son and heir was born to the family. Rachel Grace, the first-born, was raised to be a perfect wife; Jonathan Andrew, the heir, was raised to become a general and continue the tradition. Isolde Eileen was the spare, the middle child who smiled prettily and dreamed of being an alchemist.

Isolde was, growing up,  _ quite _ the romantic. Stories of heroic alchemists and knights saving their ladies in times long past: these were her daydreams, and what she read whenever she could get her hands on them. She loved the strong men, who cut through any obstacle for their lover, and the cunning and witty women, who delayed the villains’ plans  _ just _ long enough for their lover to save the day. And, of course, alchemy was almost magic: the stuff of dreams, but  _ real _ .

Of course little Isolde wanted to be an alchemist.

As she grew up from little Isolde into beautiful Isolde Eileen, and then into courteous Eileen, she realized that her dreams of studying alchemy were merely dreams, and could never happen. Instead, she learned to make no trouble for her parents, to hide her thoughts behind pretty smiles, and say witty things to make the men in salons feel good about themselves. Before she knew it, the small bitternesses that accumulated in her memories grew together into hatred, and then into wrath, and it was only the steel veneer of her pretty courtesies that kept her from tearing her suitors’ eyes out as they waited on her hand and foot and paid her meaningless compliments.

King Bradley was in his thirties, and already a successful and decorated Lieutenant General, when Eileen met him at her society debut. Sixteen years was not so large an age difference - Eileen’s own grandparents on her father’s side had a twenty-five year age gap - but Eileen was charmed and drawn to the solid stability of the older man, who was courteous and friendly but  _ never _ disingenuous towards her.

LTG Bradley was always very busy, but Eileen was very good at catching (and holding) his attention. She expressed interest once in how well he could swordfight; thirty minutes later found them body undressed a scandalous amount, Eileen watching Bradley’s body avidly as she mimicked his fighting stance. Rachel covered up for their absence when she found them, but later told her sister that  _ if she was going to get undressed with a man, she might as well pick a younger one, since she’d have to marry him as well _ .

Marriage. Eileen  _ knew _ that it was her duty to get married, but she had not considered a future in which she might  _ enjoy _ that duty. After all, the men her age were insipid and lackluster for the most part. She would have eventually picked one - a handsome one, who she wouldn’t mind looking at - and married him, produced children, and supported him dutifully in his military career while spending her time furthering the family’s good name. It was her responsibility, and everything that her parents and grandparents expected out of her.

Suddenly, with LTG Bradley… that responsibility felt less like  _ duty _ , and more like  _ pleasure _ .

Of course, it was not that simple.

Under all the steel courtesies, and bitterness-turned-wrath, and old, unfulfilled dreams, there was a part of Eileen that felt self-conscious, that worried that she might not be  _ enough _ , that doubted her worth. There were other women around LTG Bradley: older, wiser, beautiful and graceful, some already divorced (although none, Eileen believed, who were being taught to fence in secret by the man). A young Lieutenant General? One who was handsome, and courteous, and didn’t make most of the horrible jokes about women that other military men tended to make?

He was the catch of the year.

Eileen danced with LTG Bradley as often as she could in public, and smiled pleasantly, and laughed artfully, and made comments that built him up to others. An audition, for her intended future role.

And in private, they danced more often. With wooden practice swords, scandalously undressed, hair coming out of her elegant hairdos, and falling into his eyes. In private, they grinned sharply at each other, and she giggled delightfully the first time she caught him unawares, and they shared cutting private jokes at the expense of the other society men and women. Another kind of audition, for her intended future role.

(The first time she shared information for use in the political battles that determined the succession of the prized ranks of  _ General _ , he paused a moment, and then swept her into his arms and pressed her against the wall, devouring her mouth.

It was their first kiss.

It was  _ not _ their last.)

Slowly but surely, LTG Bradley crept inside the walls of bitterness-turned-wrath inside Eileen. Slowly but surely, Eileen convinced him to propose marriage to her. Slowly but surely, she started calling him  _ King _ , instead of “Lieutenant General” or “General Bradley” or “good sir.”

The wedding was in summer, and they were a resplendent couple: the successful general and his young, beautiful bride. Both smiling constantly, but friendly and pleasant and oh-so-genial. Eileen took pleasure in being particularly kind to the twenty-eight-year-old widow who had been her greatest rival in the competition for King’s hand.

The wedding night was better.

And then, the morning after, was when her husband told her that he was a homunculus. An artificial human, who had been created for the sole purpose of becoming the Fuhrer and maintaining a series of bloody battles and wars along the circumference of the country, to create a transmutation circle that would eventually harvest the souls of every citizen inside of it, turning them into energy so that his Father could become a god.

And oh, it was horrifying.

And oh, it was the most beautiful thing she had heard.

Of course, Eileen had her suspicions about her husband. He was in the prime of his life, but that did not account for how quickly his injuries healed (despite his left eye, hidden until that morning under his dashing eyepatch), or his preternatural sense of when an attack was coming. But she’d never  _ dreamed _ -

Little Isolde, who dreamed of alchemy and a heroic husband, was still there, buried deep under the layers of Eileen’s manners and charm, and the bitterness-turned-wrath hidden under her society smiles. Little Isolde, who now had a heroic husband who was  _ born _ of dangerous alchemy, who wanted her support in  _ more _ alchemy, who answered every question she had on it and more - 

There was a reason Eileen Bradley was the woman that Wrath fell in love with.


End file.
